Touch
by pancakesareking
Summary: YAOI[FarfarelloNagi] Farfarello muses over the wonders of television, with Nagi at his side. Songfic.


Hello! I'm in a Weiss Kruez sort of mood right now, and I figure a story shall quell it.  
  
I'm going for Farfarello and Nagi this time, my favorite yaoi pairing. The twisted psychopath meets the beautiful telekinetic. Mmmm.  
  
Disclaimer: I wish I may, I wish I might...but it will never happen, kiddies. Song called "Touch" belongs to Bright Eyes.  
  
~Touch~  
  
Static crackled as pale fingers covered in pearly puckered flesh ran over the screen of the television. For some reason, Bradley had given him his own TV. He wondered why so many people loved watching the noise-filled box. Perhaps if he had use of both eyes, he would see why everyone else loved it. Maybe Nagi would explain, in that monotone he always used when explaining things. With a shrug, he pressed the power button and watched as the screen flickered into blackness.  
  
Standing was a problem; it seemed his legs had to pop in places he didn't know existed. A numbish feeling followed the popping noises—a pleasant sort of feeling, like something was missing. He wondered where Nagi was. The kitchen was the best place to start looking. Sometimes, when he couldn't sleep, he broke out of his room and went to the kitchen, only to find the youngest member of Schwartz floating a pack of cigarettes through the air.  
  
He always ignored Farfarello.  
  
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Touch, lying on the floor Wishing this could last But knowing that it can't And soon you will leave  
  
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He found him lying on the couch, tremendous sapphire eyes fixed on the ceiling fan. Fast. Slow. Backwards. Repeat. Farfarello padded silently over to the couch, leaning over Nagi's face. "Play with me?" he asked.  
  
Nagi blinked, looked up at him. It was amazing, the way his cheeks suddenly turned a pinkish colour. "What do you want to do?"  
  
Kill. No. Bad answer. Nagi was a boy, and he liked computers. Maybe they could play video games together. But Nagi didn't like games. Maybe Nagi liked TV. Movies. "Let's watch a movie."  
  
Bradley had gotten a big-screen TV for the den, and had even gotten a special movie rack to stand beside it. It made the large barren den look not so barren. Most of the movies were foreign, since Schuldig was the main buyer of the movies. A lot of them were about sex, too.  
  
A lot of things with Schuldig were about sex, though.  
  
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and I will be on the floor, watching the tv, trying hard to find a reason to move I'm frozen in one place, staring at the screen Listening to the rain falling on the street.  
  
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Blue eyes fixed on the window, turning back to Farfarello after a few moments. "It's raining," Nagi said softly, "I like watching movies when it's raining. What movie do you want to watch? We don't have many. I have some, though." His eyes cast downward all of the sudden. "You might not like them."  
  
"I'll learn." He spoke softly, pinning one golden eye on the youth rising from the couch. "Anything is better than the porn Schuldig likes to watch."  
  
Nagi blinked at him, before disappearing down the hall. Farfarello watched him go. He looked like a model, one of the exotic women in those ads plastered to bus stop windows. Did he try to look like that? It probably wasn't the sort of question you ask someone. He shrugged, and sat on the floor. It was up to Nagi to do the rest. He hoped Nagi liked movies with lots of blood and killing.  
  
Just being with Nagi would be enough.  
  
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some days go on too long and no one can hang out tonight here, where the carpet is cool and soft, underneath the clock I feel my weary heart is put to rest you gather around your friends  
  
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"You know, you can sit on the couch."  
  
His head cocked to the side, one eye focused on Nagi.  
  
"I like to sit on the floor. You can sit down here, you know. It's safe." He chuckled, patting the spot beside him.  
  
It did not take long for the small figure to settle next to his body. Nagi was so warm, it was like sitting next to a fireplace. Well, he hadn't been near any fireplaces lately, but he imagined if he had, it would be like that.  
  
At some point, Nagi had discarded his socks, leaving the pale feet contrasting on the plush beigh carpet.  
  
"See, the floor is nice, isn't it?" He asked, peering at Nagi. So far, all that had appeared was a large red Warning sign he hadn't bothered to read. They were all the same, anyway.  
  
"Yes..." Nagi was staring at him. "Only the best carpet for Crawford."  
  
Farfarello smiled.  
  
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the connection that you feel when the night had not yet died you are new with a promise of love you will probably never find and touch that you can really feel the brokeness inside as hope and less collide now nothing is real  
  
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"Make your choice," the woman on the screen said. She was very beautiful, in the way only actresses and models and Nagi could be. Exotically beautiful.  
  
"He better choose her. She's good at cooking, and can make him smile." Two hours in front of the screen, with only half the veiw the Japanese teen next to him had. It couldn't be much longer. As far as movies went, though, this was long. Watching this movie purposely was masochism. To be fair though, it did have an interesting plot, and anytime it was too quiet, Nagi could fix the volume without blinking. Nagi made television fun.  
  
His hand was so close to Nagi's, and with his own scarred appengage there, Nagi looked tan. What would it feel to touch it? He ran one finger over the pale skin, blinking when Nagi jumped.  
  
He smiled softly, however, when he looked down. "Bet you'd like it better if I had scars, right?"  
  
"No," Farfarello told him, drawing random patterns on the smooth skin, "I like it best like this."  
  
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you are new and near now to someone you used to love when you were young; when all was gold and you two touched and felt the flutter underneath your skin, you stood in your glowing rooms, the light dripping from both of you. And nothing since has felt as radiant or real  
  
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Pink lips were tipped up towards his face, parting slightly. A sliver of tongue escaped, moistening them. He couldn't take his eyes off of those lips.  
  
"Farfarello? What—"  
  
"Should I kiss you now?"  
  
Sapphire eyes widened, the shock evident. "What?"  
  
"The movie, it's almost over. Should I kiss you?" He glanced up only to see that Nagi had lowered his eyes once again. Were lowered eyes a sort of international sign for 'no?'  
  
Just as he turned back to the screen, where the woman was kissing the man, ("Good. I thought he might choose the slut.") a soft answer came from beside him.  
  
"Logically, if any time is good for kissing, this would be it." Hopeful blue eyes turned to him, a shy blush painted on porceilan cheeks.  
  
He shrugged, leaned over. Taste first, his mind told him. He darted out his tongue, trailing it across the soft lips before him. They parted, inhaled. He pressed his mouth against Nagi's. Pulled back, smiled. The movie was almost over.  
  
Logically, there was a 64% chance of a happy ending.  
  
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and there is nothing more I want than just one nigh that's free of doubt and sadness one night that I can really feel.  
  
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"Bradley and Schuldig should be home any minute," Nagi said quietly.  
  
Farfarello nodded distractedly, his eye fixed on the credits floating down the screen. Well, Nagi had, without words, explained why people liked TV. Amazing.  
  
"Let's watch another movie tomorrow night." He said, delighting in the way Nagi's eyes lit up.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The front door slammed, and Farfarello went back to his room to watch TV. 


End file.
